23: On hope
Six months ago, I moved to Belgium. In the last week, I returned hurriedly to Australia to be with my family while my grandmother passed from this life. The country has been ravaged by some of the worst floods in recent memory, with entire towns virtually wiped out and a long clean up and rebuilding effort ahead. The rain has been consistent, heavy, devastating; for weeks on end. When I landed, I was greeted by a wall of humidity more familiar in Singapore than Sydney.
Climate change is making my home country feel like a subtropical climate, filled with constant fear of the next natural disaster to be waged within the ongoing pandemic, that was preceded by a hellish fire season. The word “unprecedented” repeated so much that it no longer carries the weight of something unusual.
In the car with my cousin, we spoke about some of these things, the invasion of Ukraine, and about some of the content of my studies- critical lenses on global economic systems, destruction of urban ecology, how people exist and live within cities. He asked, “From your perspective, is there any hope for the future? Can our governments do anything”
It’s a tough question to answer. Through covid, I’ve loved the content of Upworthy, sharing the “best of humanity” globally, to help counter the negative news more commonly shared on other platforms. At my university, there are talks exploring bottom-up approaches to cities, where people are more important than profits*.
And yet, as a part of the youth inheriting this planet, it can be increasingly difficult to have hope, when high-level, impactful decisions often seem to be putting the interests of future generations to the back burner, in favour of preserving the status quo.
As my Grandmother faded from this life, I recall her efforts to constantly support the students she taught, the family she raised, the migrant community she was a part of and worked tirelessly for. And so, I’m going to try to keep finding, and sharing, projects and ideas that bring hope, a repository I can turn to in moments where the world can feel a little bit too heavy.
*Brussels Centre for Urban Studies, in particular, the StadsSalonsUrbains lecture series.
22: Mena- A study in texture
I’ve been living in “Mena” for close to two years. From the first time crossing the doorstep, I was struck by the friendly atmosphere and soul within her walls.
Since then, plans for the demolition of Mena’s walls have been lodged. Despite a refusal for the moment, Mena’s eventual fate is to become rubble.
Many buildings of far more architectural significance have been brought down over time, with a variety of responses. Our lives take place within the walls- yet buildings are not mourned in the way that the loss of human life is. They are given no funeral, just swift reversion from their built form back to materials, and swifter transportation away from the site of demolition.
Knowing Mena’s fate has me looking closely at all of the imperfections, details, and textures. This is a small way of immortalising a building that has given a rich sense of home within the walls, for when her physical lifetime comes to an end.
Rather than “Saying a few words”- as one would for the funeral of a person, here is my eulogy- a study of textures that characterise Mena. Her “wrinkles”, if you will.
21: Streets
One of the greatest joys I get from travelling comes from wandering around a different place, being lost and taking it in. There is a special magic to wandering a new city, where people live their lives (just as I do in my own city), taking the whole experience in with total anonymity and fresh eyes; looking at all these things that are someone’s everyday as though it is magical.
The experiences of the streets are affected so much by the way that the city prioritises the people in the city, rather than the vehicles that use streets to go from A to B- missing the opportunities of the journey between. It is evident where there is a commitment from policymakers, designers, residents and everyone in between are actively working to ensure that these streets are truly places for people. The effects of this is evident in people dining, playing, riding, walking, reading, catching up, sitting and spending time with people.
I’ve been lucky enough to get to see many streets in different cities, so during these times of social-distancing and travelling restrictions, I’ve done a bit of sofa-travelling. Reminiscing on some of my favourite moments on streets- particularly as many streets have been empty through quarantine. They say a picture paints a thousand words, and so…
Looking over these photos, all of them have created moments- from the gumboots in Freiburg creating interest and drawing attention to the water moving through the city; to the Bubbles in Porto creating a playful street for children. They all have a sense of colour, boldness, and fun that makes the streets lively, exciting places to be. And most importantly, they make people enjoy their time; perhaps even spending more of this valuable resource; in the streets.
20: Time
As someone who values time highly, it has always seemed like there is never enough of it. Enter, COVID-19. The “New normal”. A common thread in all seems to be that there is suddenly an abundance of time, at home, away from the “busy” of daily life- but with its own rhythms- some homeschooling, co-working/living environments, baking (now that toilet paper is back in the supermarkets, there seems to be a shortage of baking ingredients).
There seem to be two very defined camps in assessing the situation and addressing how to approach this so-called “New Normal”. There is the camp of slow down, rest, relax; and the camp of speed up, do, create, hustle more. And then there is the emotional rollercoaster that transcends both camps, of which everyone seems to be on, in an ongoing loop
Sydney is a city I’ve loved living in, despite the almost-breathless, endlessly busy nature of the city. This was incredibly clear to me upon returning from Germany, having experienced a dramatic slowing down during that time. There- I was running at the pace of bureaucracy. And yet, rather than rushing from uni to work while eating lunch madly on buses, I was able to just be a student. There were moments where one day felt like a week, a week filled with the activities of a month- where in Sydney, those activities would be extra shifts. And so, there were different versions of what “normal” looked like during this period.
new normal- admiring the morning sun on my monstera
I can’t say I’ve ever experienced such a dramatic slow-down as this (nor would anyone for that matter), and for a city that always seems to be busy, rushing, late- it’s especially apparent when it grinds to a halt like this. With full respect for the sadness, tragedy, and crippling effects of this pandemic- I am grateful to be able to write this from a country which seems (touchwood) to be responding better than most.
In this time, I’ve been able to work from home. It’s been so interesting to see how a Sharehouse copes with being a shared space for both living and labour- and it seems that 9:30am is peak morning-check-in-o’clock. But impressive amounts of tea and coffee consumption aside; it raises so many interesting questions about our homes and work. I’ve lost count of how many articles have crossed my radar highlighting all manner of changes, from how work will look, what remote work could become, how we will live in our homes, and how to return to cities with social distancing.
The most exciting have been the pop-up interventions in cities, from bike lanes, slowed speed limits, widened footpaths, extra pedestrian crossings. It’s been beautiful to see the way that a little bit more time is giving the inhabitants of a city exactly that- time. Time in their city, in the parks and public spaces. Time that normally would’ve been spent passing through blindly, in a commute, shuttling children to extra-curricular activities, in traffic, going to extra meetings. It’s given me time to sit in my garden at lunch and walk after work nearly every day, moments I’m cherishing.
morning sunflowers
And so, despite the tragedy of this pandemic (which is by no means over), these beautiful, human moments give me the hope that when we’re allowed back- it isn’t back to the same “normal”, but creating a new world where work is actually more flexible, where there is time outside, with family, with friends. Where there is more patience and gratitude- having not noticed the beautiful things beforehand.
And in this downtime, there is time for creating. More to come on that note.
Until next time!
AP
19: Go Deep, Study, Don't borrow money
Over these past two weeks, I’ve been reading a lot- and working on three main principles from Bruce Mau’s “Incomplete Manifesto for Growth”*, while finding my feet in a new professional role.
The principles are:
1. Go Deep
7. Study
31. Don’t borrow money
Most of the other principles feed-in somewhere (“25. Don’t clean your desk” is a recurrent theme. Somehow, the dining table is often more relaxing to work at)
Go deep
Throughout my life, I’ve adored plants. While studying in Germany, I was encouraged to follow things that interested me while undertaking studio projects- no matter how whacky. This meant that my room became a “green lab”- with lots of plants, all growing in different ways (e.g. Seed, water, soil).
Since then, I’ve continued following my curiosity about plants. Last year, I started volunteering at the Herbarium within the Royal Botanical Gardens of Sydney- attaching specimens for an enormous digitization project. Getting to examine, touch, and study these specimens was incredible. Getting to have conversations with botanists, curators and scientists was even better- engaging, fascinating and inspiring. Which leads me to…
Study
Building on the curiosity from the Herbarium, I have just begun an online Natural History Illustration course. I have completed week 1- and really enjoy that it brings together art and drawing, makes it a regular part of my week, and makes it more scientific. My cosy setup, with hot chocolate, candles and tonal exercises makes it all the more enjoyable:
My aim for this course is to reengage with study in a meaningful, enjoyable manner- focusing on the fact that it is my choice to undertake this learning. I’ve also loved looking more carefully at plants, appreciating the tiny details.
Most importantly, I love the independence of doing this study. And on the topic of independence…
Don’t borrow money
Financial independence and effective management feel like lifelong learning curves, that constantly iterate as life changes. I have learned that well-managed finances/savings can allow for a lot of freedom. This does not mean that my finances are perfectly ordered-these lessons have been learned by making a lot of mistakes, being very close to broke at times, and often wiping my savings out almost completely by travelling.
In having conversations with family, friends, and anyone in between- I’m learning much more than I could by myself- and having preconceptions about finances challenged.
This links back to the incomplete manifesto for growth with the description:
“Once again, Frank Gehry’s advice. By maintaining financial control, we maintain creative control. It’s not exactly rocket science, but it’s surprising how hard it is to maintain this discipline, and how many have failed”
I’m trying to build the discipline to maintain creative control- and independence, over my life more easily. Further, I’m trying to build a better understanding of how I’m actually managing finances, and know if there are better ways that I could approach this.
Reading + writing:
I came across a quote this week that is informing my approach to developing writing skills:
“Read a thousand books and your words will flow like a river”
In that spirit, the reading list for the week is here:
Currently reading: Welcome to Country, Marcia Langton; The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, Marie Kondo; Monocle magazine July/Aug 2019 issue
Last week: Dark Emu, Bruce Pascoe; Fabulous but Broke, Melissa Browne
Up next: Becoming, Michelle Obama
Until next time!
AP
*Bruce Mau’s “Incomplete Manifesto for Growth” can be found here.
18: Growth
It took a walk, a motivational podcast, and vacuuming the whole house for my brain to click back into blog-action-mode. It’s been bothering me that I haven’t been writing regularly, which has been feeding a cycle of not writing - the paralysis explored in 9, below.
The podcast was speaking about goals and growth- and the common breaking of new year’s resolutions, as many people set goals without working on the skills they need to achieve them.
So far, I have been using this blog as somewhere to practice writing, however, this practice has been lacking. While I greatly enjoy it when I do sit down and write, I haven’t made it a clear and unambiguous task. And so, here is my clarification, and setting personal guidance from which this practice can grow more easily- and with greater enjoyment.
An incomplete manifesto for growth- Bruce Mau
In high school, my art teacher gave us all a printout of Bruce Mau’s “An incomplete manifesto for growth”, and it’s been pinned near my desk on and off in the years since. I’m going to write about something each week, linked to one of Bruce Mau’s points. The manifesto is incomplete- it leaves room also for inspiration to strike, and this rule to be broken. This structure gives me the freedom to write when I feel less motivated while giving plenty of freedom for creativity.
9. Begin Anywhere
“John Cage tells us that not knowing where to begin is a common form of paralysis. His advice: Begin Anywhere”.
-Bruce Mau, “An Incomplete Manifesto for Growth”
I’m jumping back into the blog here, at number 9, with the aim of writing every week and building practice, habit, and skills.
Learning how to write (among other things)
The same art teacher that provided the incomplete manifesto for growth also provided many bits of brilliant advice over the years. Ever encouraging of students exploring beyond the classroom, one of the most enduring nuggets of wisdom was along the lines of “If you’re a musician, but you only ever listen to one song, how can you create good music”.
And so, in application- I’m going to learn how to write, but also, getting deeper into reading again, as widely as possible.
4. Reading right now: Dark Emu, Bruce Pascoe
Last week: Quiet by Susan Cain
Until next week!
AP
Bruce Mau Design can be found here: https://www.brucemaudesign.com/, and the image that I used (the same as what I was given in highschool) can be found here: https://defluence.files.wordpress.com/2012/11/32.jpg
17: A year in review
2019- the best year yet, for now. Also, the hardest.
I thought that 2018 was the hardest- spending half of it living in Germany, and the remainder completing my degree while juggling work, then my part-time days converting straight into full-time. Curious about how 2019 would beat the year.
My 2019 can be divided into different phases, there are three main ones, here are some key thoughts about each;
Phase 1: Work
site visits and dog pats
Flexibility at work. Travel around Australia. Partner visiting Australia for the first time. Great ocean road. Rediscovering my love of reading. The library at work- a treasure trove. Work not working- perhaps graduate dissatisfaction, perhaps not the right workplace for me. Partner returns home to Sweden. Work really not working. Lacking in inspiration. Questioning whether I’m in the right field. Lunch breaks at the dog park with colleagues. 22 and feeling like a quarter-life crisis building up. I started this job for the opportunity, feeling less and less like that. Surrounding myself with good friends and trusted mentors. Starting Krav Maga- great to channel frustration. Multiple conversations with the company, open communication about goals and developing within the company, and their needs. Weather getting colder, days shorter, winter coming. Looking at options to travel. Reading more. Federal election. Disillusionment. Climate change being ignored. Family trip planned to Lord Howe Island. Interrupted sleep. Nightmares about work. Planning trip to Sweden on the back of Lord Howe Island. Colleagues supporting me, strong friendships and camaraderie. “The truth will set you free”. Resign from work and leave on good terms- with the option to return in the future. Grateful for the opportunities it brought and the learning it provided. Relieved. No nightmares that night. And then, the flu knocked me flat in the last week.
Phase 2: Travel
lord howe island and hikes
Subleased my room. From work immediately to disconnection. Lord Howe Island. Tiny plane. Landing in paradise, and on a 1km long runway. No phone reception. Sleeping a lot. Eating fresh food. Outside lots. Rambles in the rainforest. Writing a lot. Resting. Mum is worried. Recovering from the flu and an intense period of time. Long hikes around the island. Bikes only. Snorkeling in freezing water. Writing lots. Conversations with locals. Learning about ecology and endemic species. Attending lectures. Photographing plants. Fresh avocado (happy millennial). Leaving Paradise.
18 hours in Sydney. Mad repacking. Long haul to Sweden the next day. Chaotic trip arrive exhausted and sick. Sunrise at 3:30 in the morning. Sunset at 11:30 at night. Feel like I get two days for the price of one. Archipelago sunsets. Find the city library. Get used to transport. Hiking trip to Norway with a group. Exploring different parts of Sweden. Extend trip for another two months. Baking cinnamon buns. Enrol in a Swedish course. Solo trip to Copenhagen. Most expensive coffee in my life. Danish Architecture Centre, Architecture walking tours. Got a library membership. Reading lots. Rediscovering inspiration and attraction to the built environment industry. Turn 23, best brunch ever. Swedish classes- the best teacher. Make friends in class (some Australian- how ironic). Community and my own connections to Sweden being formed. Weather getting colder. Applying for jobs back home. Preparing to head back. Bittersweet. Experiments with film photography. Feeling interested, engaged, and grateful.
Phase 3: Return, rebuild
summer and relaxing at the beach
Immediately back to hospitality to pay bills. Time in the garden. Facetime, daily. Time zones and misaligned schedules. Applications continue. Mornings to myself. Walking. Deep conversations. Interviews. And then, while I reverse parallel park the car, a phone call. Smiling from ear to ear. New year, new job. Didn’t crash into a tree. Excited, keen to learn more, and to begin. Colleagues with a wealth of experience. Public sector- work for the good of the community.
Connecting to self, my garden, passions, the industry. Architects pulling together in the fight against climate change. Volunteering at the botanical garden. Honesty. Swimming lots, the beach. Hot chocolate at Coogee after a cold swim. Bushfires. Smoky Sydney. Ash on everything. The silly season, and a visitor from Sweden- here for his first warm (and smoky) Christmas. Community pulling together- fundraisers left, right and center. Celeste barber raising over 50million. Climate protests. Rearranging my space. Rain.
That got long, and it feels like the tip of the iceberg. It’s incredible to think how much can fit into just a year, and how I couldn’t possibly have thought that all of this would happen.
And so, 2020 begins. I look forward to more garden, nature, sustainability, more learning, action on climate change, small and large scale. Quality time. Friends. Family. Spending time with my grandmothers. Self-discovery. Reading. Trying new things. Time in the library. Spending time on hobbies. Challenges. Proper pasta carbonara: it’s delicious (no cream, eggs).
And Less: Stuff. Accepting the status quo- whether used in terms of “business as usual” or “that’s just the way it is”. Overloading the schedule. Busy for the sake of busy. It would probably be good for my health to calm down on the pasta carbonara.
Until next time!
AP
16. Alice street or struggle street?
Since the last blog post, there has been a gap in posting, and I’ve been struggling with the Alice Street project. It’s been all too easy to make excuses. I had a great chat with a good friend the other day- and there are so many places I want to take this blog, to really delve into my interests. Alice Street has been a bit of a mental roadblock, and I’m keen to break down what aspects of the project have been creating this- to move on, wrap the project up with a nicely rendered bow, and keep writing.
What’s going wrong? I haven’t been setting dedicated time to the project. While at university, or in the workplace, it’s easy to build habits and patterns (e.g. A certain environment triggers work/focus). I’ve also set myself goals that aren’t broken down properly into achievable chunks- and work with the momentum of things that are going right.
What am I not liking? I really like the actual project and imagining a home for a family. I appreciate working on alterations and additions, as well as adaptive reuse- this work is becoming more and more common in Sydney.
The challenging part of the project for me is the fundamental reflection upon the housing market in Sydney. The property market is amongst the most unaffordable in the world. As a young Australian, I do not see any way that I could ever afford my own home in Sydney. As a young architect, this is truly saddening- I’d love to be able to build my own carbon-neutral home one day and practice what I’ve been taught. And as a member of generation “rent-forever”- I wonder about what sense of security in a home I will ever be able to have here. While studying in Germany, I was amazed by how affordable and secure rentals were, and the flow on into my overall levels of financial stress- which were greatly lessened.
Being a speculative, personal project- I have time to reflect on this, perhaps a little too much. These issues run deeply, rooted in the context of the Alice Street project. And while I really enjoy designing a beautiful space for a family, I am also aware that that same house would likely fit 5 housemates in reality, or that a family would have a 35 year mortgage for a house that they would purchase for an obscene price and have to renovate immediately as the existing house is in disrepair.
Where do I need to improve? I need to improve on my detailed breakdown of tasks. This can be time-consuming, however, it makes the actual flow-on of the project far smoother and less painful. I also need to improve on working through slowly and surely, and not getting overwhelmed by minutia- just moving forward steadily. Some ideas that I want to try are to break down the tasks in intense detail- budgeting extra time as “catchup and review” time, to check-in and readjust as required. I will also use the local libraries throughout the week to work and to sit in a different environment. And through it, rewarding myself for completing those micro chunks.
What’s going right? While this blog entry sounds quite negative, there hasn’t been total inaction. In fact, I had decided to experiment with animating a site analysis- and learning Adobe After Effects in some capacity. I was incredibly motivated in completing this, and am excited to remember that feeling- and moving forward remembering this small win* in the scheme of the project.
Here is the animated site analysis of the site:
And so, this week will be about getting those small wins, and focusing on the progress- rather than simply an end product.
Until next week,
AP
*An interesting article from Harvard Business Review- “The power of small wins”
15. Revisiting Alice Street
Part One…
I’ve recently returned to an old project from university, for the purpose of building on my personal “architectural toolkit” including conceptual and critical thinking and software skills. The project is alterations and additions for a terrace house in the inner-west suburb of Newtown, in Sydney.
My primary goal for this project is to explore ways of communicating and outputting different aspects of the architectural process in a different manner to the ways that were commonly used at university. This means that I have been researching and experimenting with different methods of site analysis, rendering, sketching, thinking and documenting- to expand upon the skillset developed throughout my Bachelor’s degree.
Revisiting this project has been interesting conceptually- considering “home” in Sydney, a city that is incredibly busy, congested and unaffordable. Considering this “home” from the perspective of an architect designing for a young family and their needs. Approaching the project in relation to the user and their experience has led me to researching “UX design” as well as the development of a user-goals in relation to the project.
I am particularly focused on creating spaces within spaces- transformative as the family grows, without being so adaptable that no sense of permanence remains. I am interested in creating different senses in spaces- social, warm, loud, quiet, contemplative, cosy. I want the spaces to reference their Australian context and be entirely workable in all of the seasons.
I aim to create the most sustainable home possible- recycling materials, sourcing locally as much as possible, and using solar panels and rainwater harvesting to offset (and, if possible, neutralize) household energy consumption. (this could go into another blog that links the different materials and detailed drawings/specs). While considering sustainability as a primary goal, I have created a materiality palette envisioning the colours, textures and landscape that has inspired the approach to the house.
Separate from my goals for software development, I am also very excited to go through the project considering the experience of each space, anticipating the needs of the user, and working with a sense of detail. The process that I have undertaken has involved program mapping and sketching to begin with, site analysis, development of concepts, and moving onto the documentation of the scheme, and renders of the final project. Throughout the process, I have worked to change the usual way that I would approach something, and try a different way of approaching each stage, for example, in sketching, I considered and drew the layout of every house I have lived in to recall the strengths and weaknesses in deciding on the layout of mine.
It’s been really satisfying to get back to this project, and back to working through an architectural project. I have enjoyed researching precedents once again, looking at different configurations of stairs and kitchens, and getting back into the nitty gritty of putting together spaces. It’s always an adventure transforming the images inside my head into something that I can tangibly show someone, and incredibly satisfying to be able to put together something interesting. I am looking forward to continuing work on the project, and transforming this foundation through drawings and renderings into a more tangible process in the upcoming weeks.
Until next time!
AP
14. Experimenting with Film
Film photography is something I’ve always been interested in- but never pursued. My father has always had a huge interest in photography, and over the years has built up a lot of practice with digital, however, has always had a precious old film camera. I have always appreciated the tangible nature of physical photos, and how interesting it is to look at them- I’ve passed many hours through childhood looking through shoeboxes of old photos belonging to my parents.
While in Sweden, I was introduced to some friends with a great interest in photography. We spoke quite a lot, and they had asked whether I was interested in trying out film photography- which I was very keen on. They surprised me with a roll of film for my birthday- and generously lent me one of their point and shoot cameras to take and experiment with. It was incredibly touching and thoughtful and proved immense fun to go and take photos with.
I was immediately struck by how much freedom there can be found in the limited number of photos, and the inability to see what has been taken. It allows the focus to be on actually observing, seeing what could make an interesting photo- but not necessarily shooting constantly, as digital photography allows. It means that each photo is more considered in a sense- it’s worth, as one of a limited number, is higher- so the photo feels valuable- and like it should be of something special. I really enjoyed the fact that there is no way to check the photo- it meant that I really made the most of being in that moment.
Going to get the photos developed was exciting but paled in comparison to picking them up- I had butterflies in my stomach wondering whether I would receive 36 blurs, or if the photos would be good. I got such a thrill opening the envelope and seeing that the majority of the photos weren’t completely blurry (a few were), but that they really captured some favourite moments. Here are a few of them:
The result of my adventures in film is a package of 36 photos- one of the best souvenirs I’ve ever come across. It brings together a tangible collection of my favourite moments on this adventure and allows me to put some in a frame, show them to my grandmother, and really connect with those 36 photos, rather than hundreds that will rarely get looked at again (although those also exist). I’m looking forward to continuing experimenting with film photography and would be interested in practicing architectural photography- learning more while building up skills and techniques.
Until next week!
AP
Note: I used Kodak ColorPlus film (36 exp 200) and an Olympus point and shoot camera (I believe the model is a mju-2) to take these photos.